"Please sit."
He resumed his seat.
"Victor, I have an important question to ask you."
He looked attentive.
"I—I—"
"You…? You…?"
"It is about us."
"Define'us.'"
"'Us'means'us'!"
"The whole group, all five, or just you and me? English is ambiguous when it comes to inclusive versus exclusive first person plural."
I said crossly, "This would be easier if you would at least try to guess what I am about to say!"
He leaned back in his chair and regarded me with what I can only call a Boggin-like expression. "What wavelengths can your brain generate? If you have a way of broadcasting a signal I can pick up, it would be very useful to secure communications practice."
I sat in miserable silence for a few moments. "Well—"
I could not ask him. I groped for some different question to ask.
I finally said in the most lame and insincere tone that has ever come out of a girl's mouth, "I was wondering if you knew what Vanity and Quentin were keeping from us… ?"
"Of course," he said in a tone as bland and certain as could be. "It's obvious."
"What?"
He seemed a little surprised. "Quentin does not want to tell us that we ought not go home."
4.
I blinked. "Not… home… ?"
He favored me with that Victor-raising-an-eyebrow look I knew so well from my youth. "Back to Chaos. Myriagon. Ialysus. Cimmeria. Phaeacia. And wherever Quentin's people hail from. We ought not go back."
"Why can't we go back? We don't even know what's there. It's unexplored terrain!"
"I did not say we could not. Obviously, we could jump on Vanity's boat as soon as she can summon it here, and, if the Argent Nautilus functions as promised, and nothing stops us, we could be in those places within a day. I said we ought not, not if we want to preserve the human race and the organized universe from attack. Our enemies, even when talking among themselves (in a situation we have every reason to believe was not arranged for our ears) seemed honestly to think this was the most likely outcome of our escape back to Chaos. I think we cannot ignore that opinion without some clear proof that is it false."
"But what about seeing our parents? Our families?"
"Good question. The people whom the war would kill have parents and families, too. Now then, they are just mortal men, or, as Corus would say, 'cattle.' But since you seemed to think it inadvisable for me even to influence the captain's glands while he was thinking, I assume you do not share the view of Corus on this matter."
I said, "I certainly do not share Corns' view on the matter. How dare you think that of me?"
"Well, there is also the matter of the promise you and Quentin and Vanity made to the Head of Bran.
Quentin takes such promises very seriously; broken promises directly interfere with his abilities to manipulate his magnetic entities he calls 'spirits.' Need I say that, if the universe is destroyed, it is unlikely that the British Isles will be preserved? You at least would need to exact a promise from our relatives to spare England from general and universal destruction before we went home and triggered the general attack from Chaos."
I sat there, a sinking sensation in my stomach. I had been hoping to see my parents, whom I had never seen. Helion and Neaera. I am sure Quentin felt the same way: people who would understand us, for once; people who would be on our side, for once; people around whom we would be the normal ones.
Our people.
People who would be glad to see us.
Loved ones.
Colin did not even know the name of his mother. I don't think we knew the name of either of Victor's parents.
I said in an empty voice: "But—what else can we do… ? We cannot go back to the school."
Victor shook his head. "As long as we put a higher priority on freedom than on staying alive, no one can imprison us again."
He meant that we should kill ourselves rather than be captured again.
Sometimes I love how calmly he puts things. A "higher priority," he calls it.
5.
He continued, "Besides, I am not certain you have exhausted all the cases. We could remain at liberty on Earth. We could return to Chaos in disguise. We are alleged to be shape-changers, although I have not noticed Quentin or Colin practicing to see what new shapes they could form themselves into. We could hire actors and actresses to impersonate us, and have them go back to the school in our stead, so that the Chaoticists will continue to be reluctant to attack."
I said, "I don't know how likely any of those options are." Victor said, 'The most likely scenario is one that has several severe disadvantages. As I see it, the enemy obviously thinks our aid, given to one side or the other, could allow a clear victory in the coming civil war. I am not sure why they are so optimistic; myself, I do not see how I can do anything Dr. Fell cannot do, for example. I think, by the way, there is still a mystery here as to what they so fear from us. I have been assuming they were afraid of something personal we could do that they could not. Although, the more I think about it, it is more reasonable to assume that they are simply afraid that we can summon aid from the various armies of Chaos."
"What about your 'most likely' scenario? You didn't say what it was."
"Sorry. I thought it was obvious from context."
"Mate it more obvious."
"We could select which faction among the Olympians to help, and use our powers or position to set one of them on the throne of Heaven. Once there is a strong leader, an army, and whatever else the Olympians need to fend off an attack from Chaos, we are no longer an issue in any way. Then we can go home."
"And if we are not willing to help the Olympians maim and murder each other? That is what we are talking about. War is murder, king-sized."
"If we are not willing to help the Olympian civil war, there is always life. Life on Earth. We may have more than one Earth to choose from, if Vanity's boat does what she says it does. There is also the possibility that Vanity can go home; her situation is not exactly parallel to ours (if my understanding of the situation is accurate, which, I admit, it may not be)."
I looked around at the wide swimming pool below our balcony, at the windows and balconies around us, the tastefully appointed corridors I could see, the chambers and shops beyond that. I smiled and said,
"Life on Earth does not sound that bad to me, considering—."
I turned to him and leaned forward on the table, and said, "What are your dreams, Victor? What do you want to do with your life on Earth?"
He looked a little surprised at the change of topic, but he answered, "I think I want what all young men want: a wife, a home, and a family."
I had to smile at that. "The average young man wants a harem, a beer, and a pot of gold, or maybe a race car."
"And how would you know what the average young man wants?"
"I've never heard any young man say he wants a home."
"And you've met so very, very many young men…"
"I know. I know what the average young man wants."
"And what does he want?"
"He wants the egg of the Roc. He wants to find the lost city of El Dorado in the Amazon. He wants to ride the decks of a man-o'-war and give the pirates blast for blast, even while the scuppers fill with blood. He wants to plant the flag upon the desert sands of Mars, and leave the first footsteps of Man upon that frigid, rust-red world. He wants to cross blades with Cyrano de Bergerac and match him rhyme for rhyme, blow for blow, parry, riposte, and counterparty! He wants to slay the dragon. He wants the Most Holy Grail."
"So I take it all men are unhappy and frustrated, except for Sir Percival, Saint George, and maybe John Carter of Barsoom and Captain Horatio Hornblower, right? Is there anything else men want?"
I looked at him from under my lashes. "There are other things a man wants. He wants Sophia Loren and the Queen of Sheba and Helen of Troy and Marilyn Monroe in a
little white dress, her skirts blown up around her knees."
"I would add Joe DiMaggio and Menelaus to my list of non-unhappy men, except that, as I recall, things did not turn out so well for either of them. Once these men have Helen of Troy, do you know what they expect to do with her? Even Paris took her back home to live with him. I think you are describing what Amelia Windrose wants in life, not most men. How would you know what anyone else in the world wants, but you?"
"I've read books."
"The books we read in school? I am not sure they are a representative sample. The young men in those books divide into three camps: those who want to defeat Napoleon at the battle of Borodino; those who want to defeat the Persians at Marathon; and those who wish to live lives of temperate virtue, untroubled by the clamor of the senate and left in peace by the spies of Caesar. Un-less you want to talk about the plays we read, also? All the Shakespeare comedies end in mass marriages. So don't tell me men don't think about marriage. What is the first thing Romeo and Juliet did?"
"Achilles chose a short and glorious life rather than a long one. He was a hero."
Victor said in a saturnine voice, "Among all your heroes and demigods, Amelia, you seem to forget that Odysseus was doing nothing but trying to get home to his wife and kid, and Aeneas was trying to find a new home for himself and his people. And they were men, heroes, some would say, more heroic than Achilles, by a long shot. The whole poem was about nothing but his lack of self-control."
"So what is your goal in life, really, Victor?"
"All living organisms desire to reproduce. It is programmed into us at a fundamental level. Likewise, thoughts form 'memes' or self-replicating mental viruses. They desire to be passed on also. A stable environment, a family, in fact, is the only way to pass one's memes and genes along."
"That sounds sooo romantic. A robot factory manufacturing another robot factory."
"What is your goal?"
"I have found my calling in life. It is to spend as much time in a Jacuzzi as possible. Like Socrates, I want to live a life of reflection and virtue. I just want to be warm and wet while I am doing it."
"Very Epicurean of you. You have another two days of such a life. I assume you have thought beyond that point?"
Actually, I hadn't. Why does Victor always make me feel so stupid?
"Two days… ?" I said.
"Well," he said sardonically, "this trip is a reckless expense, and we are almost drained of the absurd amount of money Mr. ap Cymru gave you. I did not know it at the time when Vanity picked this boat to hitch a hike on; I would have objected. We should have found a tramp steamer."
"What's wrong with this boat?"
"Nothing, were we not paupers. I am sure our enemies have not found us simply because their brains would not accept the idea that the first thing we would do with the only real money we have ever had in our lives is blow it all on one pleasure cruise."
"Are we out of money? Nearly out or all out?"
Victor let out a loud laugh when I asked that. He actually slapped his knee and laughed.
I said, "What is so funny!"
Victor pressed his lips together to smother his laugh, but his eyes still twinkled. "Yes, Amelia, we are nearly out of money."
"Was I supposed to know that? You are the one keeping the envelope in your jacket!"
"Actually, I altered my skin to make a watertight pocket, like a marsupial. I am keeping the envelope in my pouch. And yes, you were supposed to know that. I assumed you could do math."
"What are we going to do?" I asked, eyes wide.
He smiled. "Get jobs."
"Jobs?"
"I am afraid that something as glamorous as the film actress career Vanity has her heart set on might attract the attention of the enemy. It is, of course, her risk to take. I was experimenting last night with using a molecular sieve method to collect gold out of seawater. That might tide us over until I can find a more promising career."
I said, "I don't think you can own gold in America. Franklin Roosevelt took it all away, or something."
"Hmph. And it advertises itself as a free country. It is supposed to be this great paragon of the free market. The subjects there cannot own money?"
"They have paper money."
"An oxymoron. Paper is IOUs never intended to be repaid. Only metal is money. Well, I will have to find something else to do."
"Like what?"
"Dig ditches. Draw water. Chop wood. Tote barges. Lift bales. You know: work. The capacity to move mass over distance. Work."
"Hmmm… Doesn't sound very appealing. Is there any job I can get that does not require moving out of the Jacuzzi?"
"I can think of two, playwright and Playboy model, depending on whether you are willing to have people photograph you in the water as you bathe. Come on, Amelia. We are not really British. We do not have to look down our noses at honest labor."
"Digging ditches is not my idea of a bright future."
"Those who work are free. There are only three categories of nonproductive people: babies, beggars, robbers."
"I still do not want to dig ditches."
"What do you want, then?"
"I want to be the first girl on Mars."
"Without moving out of the Jacuzzi? That will be a feat"
"How much money is left?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I want to spend some of it before it is gone."
He laughed. I was beginning to think I liked Victor better before he was so happy and at ease.
I said crossly, "I have not ever seen it! I have not spent a dime. Vanity was in Paris; I haven't bought anything in the shops here on the ship. I didn't even rent the skates we are wearing; you did! Don't I get a cut of the money?"
His flesh rippled, and a pair of lips formed near his belly button. He stuck his hand into the lips and pulled out an envelope.
He passed it to me. "It's all yours."
I said, "What? Only one fifth of this is mine "
Victor said, "How do you figure that? You got it from ap Cymru. None of us did anything to get it. As far as I am concerned, that is your property. I was only holding it because you handed it to me to count when we were standing on the dock, and then Mr. Glum attacked." Victor could count faster than any of us.
I said, "Well, I'm ceding it to the group. Four fifths of it. No, I don't even need that much. I guess we'll have to rent a room in New York when we get there, won't we?"
Victor jumped to his feet, slamming his hand down atop the envelope. He stood, looming over the table.
I shrieked and flinched backwards in my chair, shouting, "What? What? What is it?"
But he was not looking at me. Face blank, his eyes were scanning left and right, right and left.
He said, "There is something invisible in the immediate area. I hope it is Colin. Colin… ?"
No answer.
Victor opened his third eye. The metal orb, shining, came out of a seam on his forehead. Blue sparks began to glow in his depth, brighter and brighter as the nested spheres began to align their irises, one after another…
I looked in the fourth dimension. A web of spider-lines? No; it wasn't there. But had I seen it for a moment?
Colin appeared, right hand curled around his left index finger, twisting the ring collet-out. "Okay, okay, smart guy. You got me. Put your eyeball away before someone sees it."
Victor closed his third eye. "Don't play tricks. We are about to be attacked by people who want to kill us rather than capture us."
"Sorry. But you guys are the ones who told me not to go around attracting attention. On account of I don't have a ticket, see?"
"By not attracting attention, I meant stop pulling the ice sculptures of mermaids off the buffet tables and waltzing with them."
"My date walked out on me. Are we going to divvy up the loot?"
"If Amelia says it is okay. Myself, I think we should pool our resources. I doubt if this is enough to rent a room, even a poor one."
"Oh,
come on!" said Colin. "America is a rich country. They are not going to let people starve there! I mean, Margaret Thatcher's not running the place, is she?"
I put my hand on Victor's hand, saying, "I'll be happy to dig ditches with you, if you want, Victor.
Anything is better than being a baby, a bum, or a robber." I favored Colin with a dark look.
Victor said, "How long were you listening, Colin?"
Colin said, "Keeping secrets from me? I heard you guys talking about not being able to go back home."
Colin returned my dark look and made it darker. "Or was this one of those mixed doubles things, where the fifth guy from the hotbox doesn't get to play?"
I said, "Maybe absolute power does corrupt absolutely. What are you going to do for a living when we get to the States? Be the world's greatest pickpocket? Walk through girls' shower rooms? Strangle the president?"
"With great power comes great responsibility," said Colin earnestly. "I will dedicate myself to ridding the world of evil! I will use my great powers of invisibility to fight crime! Maybe I can catch the Catwoman. I sure as hell am not going to end up waiting tables for tips. That is your future, you know, Dark Mistress.
Or should I say: Dark Waitress."
"I don't think so," I said haughtily.
Colin grinned one of his slimier grins. "Yeah? What marketable skills did Boggin teach you in that fine school we just fled from?"
I stared at him in silence, unable to think of anything to say.
Colin said, "Maybe you can recite the Iliad in Greek on a street corner and leave a hat out for people to drop dimes into. 'Of wrath sing, oh goddess…!'"
"We learned other things…" I said, pouting.
"Astronomy? There is big money in calculating the orbit of Jupiter using Ptolemy's Almagest these days.
Philosophy? Get yourself a cardboard sign: Will think for food. You'll be on the dole with me in no time.
Then we can have our argument about Margey Thatcher again."
Victor put the envelope of money into my hand. "Don't starve yet. I still say this is yours, not ours. If you want to split it up once we are all together, fine."
Colin said, "That should be in about one minute. Quentin sent me to go get you. He was playing around with calculating the orbit of Jupiter in hexadecimals, and he was using a system in that book of his.
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